Foxe - The Book of Martyrs

Foxe’s Book of Martyrs
hand, and a great Burden upon his Back.' After he had realised that Christ was his
Righteousness, and that this did not depend on "the good frame of his Heart"-or, as we should
say, on his feelings-"now did the Chains fall off my legs indeed." His had been Doubting
Castle and Sloughs of Despond, with much of the Valley of Humiliation and the Shadow of
Death. But, above all, it is a book of Victory. Once when he was leaving the doors of the
courthouse where he himself had been defeated, he wrote: "As I was going forth of the doors,
I had much ado to bear saying to them, that I carried the peace of God along with me." In his
vision was ever the Celestial City, with all its bells ringing. He had fought Apollyon
constantly, and often wounded, shamed and fallen, yet in the end "more than conqueror
through Him that loved us."
His book was at first received with much criticism from his Puritan friends, who saw in
it only an addition to the worldly literature of his day, but there was not much then for Puritans
to read, and it was not long before it was devoutly laid beside their Bibles and perused with
gladness and with profit. It was perhaps two centuries later before literary critics began to
realise that this story, so full of human reality and interest and so marvelously modeled upon
the English of the King James translation of the Bible, is one of the glories of English
literature. In his later years he wrote several other allegories, of which of one of them, "The
Holy War," it has been said that, "If the 'Pilgrim's Progress' had never been written it would
be regarded as the finest allegory in the language."
During the later years of his life, Bunyan remained in Bedford as a venerated local pastor
and preacher. He was also a favourite speaker in the non-conformist pulpits of London. He
became so national a leader and teacher that he was frequently called "Bishop Bunyan."
In his helpful and unselfish personal life he was apostolic. His last illness was due to
exposure upon a journey in which he was endeavoring to reconcile a father with his son. His
end came on the third of August, 1688. He was buried in Bunhill Fields, a church yard in
London.
There is no doubt but that the "Pilgrim's Progress" has been more helpful than any other
book but the Bible. It was timely, for they were still burning martyrs in Vanity Fair while he
was writing. It is enduring, for while it tells little of living the Christian life in the family and
community, it does interpret that life so far as it is an expression of the solitary soul, in homely
language. Bunyan indeed "showed how to build a princely throne on humble truth." He has
been his own Greatheart, dauntless guide to pilgrims, to many.
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